Maher woke up with a headache. He looked around him—he was still in the cell. He didn't even know how long it had been. They had been thrown into a small, dark cell where he couldn't see the sunlight, so he couldn't tell the difference between night and day. He would ask the guard, who came once a day, what time it was, and he did his best to guess prayer times. He was trying his hardest to maintain a positive mindset, doing everything he could not to let them break him. He remained strong despite the lack of food or clean water, and despite the electric shock torture.
But after a while, he fell into despair. He believed it was useless because no one knew where they were, and no one was coming to save them. Despite Ameer's attempts to cheer him up, he was unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Across the cramped cell, Ameer shifted, his voice a raspy whisper. "You awake?"
Maher exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Unfortunately."
Ameer leaned forward, his silhouette barely visible. "You should drink some water. The guard left some."
Maher glanced at the small, grimy cup in the corner. The water inside was murky, but thirst gnawed at his throat. He reached for it, forcing himself to take slow sips. "What's the point?"he muttered.
"The point is staying alive," Ameer said firmly.
Maher let out a bitter chuckle. "For what? No one knows where we are. No one's coming."
Ameer's voice hardened. "You don't know that."
"I do," Maher snapped, his frustration boiling over.
"They broke us the moment they threw us in here. We're ghosts."
Ameer:"Our families, our friends—they're definitely looking for us. They can't hide us forever."
Maher:"No. They know if they let us out, we'd expose them. That's why they'll keep us here until we rot. They didn't even let a lawyer see us. We weren't taken to a normal prison—this is some unknown facility, probably underground."
A heavy silence lingered before Maher spoke again, his voice thick with guilt.
Maher: "I'm sorry I dragged you into this."
Ameer:"It's not your fault. We both should've been more careful. But we were trying to do the right thing—and I wouldn't hesitate to do it again."
Maher was silent for a long moment before responding, quieter now. "Then why do they still bother torturing us? If we're already dead to the world, why waste the electricity?"
Ameer replied. "They're afraid. Afraid that someone is looking for us. That's why they keep trying to break us—because if they don't, we might still have hope."
Maher wanted to believe him. But the darkness, the pain, the endless waiting—it had carved away at his resolve. "Hope is a luxury we can't afford,"he whispered.
Ameer's hand found his shoulder in the dark, grip firm. "No. Hope is the only thing they haven't taken from us."
Before Maher could argue, a sound cut through the silence—unfamiliar, sharp. Footsteps. Too many, too fast.
Ameer tensed. "That's not the guard."
Shouting erupted outside, distant but growing louder. A crash. Running. Then—gunfire.
Maher's breath caught. "What's happening?"
Ameer's eyes gleamed in the shadows. "Listen."
The cell door shuddered under a heavy impact. Once. Twice. On the third hit, it burst open.
Light flooded in, blinding after so long in darkness. Maher flinched, raising an arm to shield his eyes.
A figure stood in the doorway—tall, clad in unfamiliar gear, weapon raised. But the insignia on his vest wasn't the enemy's.
"Maher? Ameer?"the soldier barked.
Ameer was already on his feet, pulling Maher up with him. "Yes! That's us!"
The soldier stepped aside, gesturing urgently. "Move! We have a surprise for you."
Maher stood frozen, then he carefully asked . "Where are you taking us?"
Ameer grabbed his arm, dragging him forward. "Let's go Maher," he said, grinning despite everything. " Don't worry, I have a good feeling about this. "
______
Omar paced back and forth in the dimly lit room, his footsteps echoing in the silence. It was 5 AM, and he hadn't slept all night. His mind raced with worry—Maher was gone, vanished without a trace. He had asked a few of his uncle's connections for help, but it was pointless. It was as if the earth had swallowed him whole.
Maher's parents were devastated. His father had fallen ill, and his mother wouldn't stop crying, her prayers for his safe return filling the house.The situation was utterly heartbreaking.
After a few hours, Omar made a decision. He grabbed his phone and dialed his uncle again, desperation clawing at him. After a few rings, his uncle answered.
"Uncle, I need to speak to you—urgently," Omar said, his voice strained.
There was a brief pause before his uncle replied, "Come to the mansion later today."
Omar didn't waste time. Later that day, he stood in the grand hall of his uncle's mansion, his nerves on edge.
"Uncle, please," Omar began, his voice trembling. "I need your help. Maher is missing, and I don't know what else to do."
His uncle, Tariq, sighed heavily. "Omar, I already asked all of my connections. They can't help."
Omar's hands clenched into fists. "You have to try again. Maher is my closest friend—I can't just abandon him. Please, Uncle. I'll do anything in return. Just help me find him."
Tariq studied him for a long moment before finally nodding. "Fine. I'll ask one more time. But remember, Omar—you must stay true to your word."
Omar exhaled in relief, his shoulders sagging. "I will. Thank you, Uncle."
The weight of his promise settled over him, but for Maher, he was willing to pay any price.